


The Driver

by lecygne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecygne/pseuds/lecygne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean teaches Castiel to drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Driver

Since his fall Castiel had worked very hard to acclimate to being human. The process had been hard and gritty since the moment he showed up at the bunker, bloodied and terrified. It was heart achingly difficult at first. The angel had refused to eat, and slept only after he had passed out from exhaustion.  It took its toll on Dean, who stayed awake with Castiel into the early hours of the morning, talking about whatever would comfort the angel until he would eventually be lulled to sleep. Dean would stay there for a while after, making sure he rested soundly.

It took time but Castiel began to grow accustomed to being human. He learned how to cook for himself, after caving in to a voracious hunger for pizza, resulting in an unfortunate evening Dean spent comforting the an over a toilet.

“Pizza is evil, Dean” Cas managed to croak out.

“When you eat your own weight in it, yes.” He rubbed Castiel’s back soothingly. Dean stayed by his side the rest of the night, taking care of him. Teaching Cas to be human seemed to give Deans life a new meaning. He was enjoying himself, holed up in the bunker, Sam busying himself in the library while Dean taught Cas little life lessons.

Some things were easier for Castiel to adjust to, even fun. His favorite so far was when Dean finally taught him how to drive.

“It’s your official path to manhood,” Dean announced as he flung the keys into Cas, who returned Dean’s look with one of appreciation and more than slight confusion.

“I don’t understand, aren’t I already a man? I have all the necessary parts and-“

“Figure of speech, Cas. Just a figure of speech.”

The lessons had a slow start, opposite of what Dean had in mind. Normally the ex-angel picked everything up instantly, asking few questions here and there. This, however, was a much bigger ordeal. Cas was still learning the human limitations of his body and now he was supposed to pilot a big box of metal. It was a little much for him to handle.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, I’m right here with you,” Dean rubbed and cooed the dashboard of the Impala as Castiel jerked to another rugged stop.

“I don’t see the point in doing this, Dean.  I can’t see how it could be useful.” Castiel glared at the deserted road ahead of him while the car rumbled quietly around him.

“Well I ain’t drivin’ your ass around forever; it’s about time you learned.” Dean barked, easing back into the seat. He looked at Castiel, who held his glare at the highway as his knuckles turned white from his grip on the wheel.

“Take it easy, Cas. It comes with time,” Dean’s voice softened as he sensed his partner’s frustration. He turned himself towards the driver’s side, leaning in closer and pulling Castiel’s hands off the wheel, releasing his death grip. He held the other man’s hand for a moment, rubbing his thumb across the smooth back of his skin.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll take us to go get some pie.”

* * *

 

It was dark in the bunker and a touch chilly. The thing blanket Dean had wrapped around him was not helping enough to keep his toes from turning icy. He lay there for a long while, debating whether or not getting up was worth it and decided yes once his teeth began to chatter involuntarily. He pushed himself up and wrapped the blanket tightly around him, kicking himself for not letting Cas buy him slippers when his feet hit the ice slick of a floor.

He shuffled down the hall and grabbed another blanket, then thought again and grabbed two more. Sam and Castiel might be equally cold, and Dean could be the blanket fairy for the night, and maybe someone would make him breakfast in the morning for his good deed.  He shuffled down to Sam’s door and pushed the door open gently. His brother was fast asleep, but curled and shivering. Dean spread one over him gently and backed out of the room, stifling a laugh when Sam gave a satisfying snort.

He turned back down the hallway towards Castiel’s room, wondering idly of the ways Cas could thank him. He reached for the door, only to find it slightly ajar. Dean’s forhead creased with worry as he pushed the door open gently. Cas was gone. His bed was hastily made, tucked in but still wrinkled ad uneven.  Dean whipped around on his heels, dropping the extra blankets and ignoring the icy touch of the bunkers floors. He checked every last inch of their makeshift home, starting with the obvious places. The library, where Castiel enjoyed researching monsters with Sam and for other hunters, was eerily quiet in the dead of night and without the comforting constant presence of his brother. The kitchen, where he and Castiel had learned to cook (proper meals, not mac ‘n cheese with hot dogs), was untouched from their dinner that evening. Dean had checked every room in the house, there was simply no trace of him. Maybe he was outside, tending to the small garden Castiel insisted on starting along when Sam taught him how to read food labels, and insisted organic was the way to go. Dean had rolled his eyes, but went along with it. It made Castiel happy, and that made Dean happy.

Dean returned to his room, no way he was venturing outside with shoes and a jacket. He turned on his table lamp and looked down at his alarm clock, which read 2:43am. He shook his head and then froze, staring hard at the side table, examining the items. His clock, lamp, wallet, and…

“Shit.”

The keys to his baby were missing.

Dean continued to curse under his breath as he stuffed his feet into his boots and grabbed a jacket out of his closet, throwing the article on roughly. He rushed outside, nearly tripping over the laces he hadn’t bothered to tie. The Impala was not where he left it earlier. In fact, it was nowhere in sight. Dean began to panic, not only was car gone but so was Castiel. Cas, who still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of driving to begin with. What if he had gotten ballsy, and took it too fast? What if he had lost control and was in a ditch somewhere? Dean, losing all rational thought, took off running down the driveway and down the dirt road leading away from the bunker. He didn’t bother to feel foolish, he couldn’t think about anything else besides the safety of his friend. What if Cas had made it to the highway, what if another car had hit him? It would be Dean’s fault, he knew for sure. He shouldn’t have pushed Castiel to do something he wasn’t ready for.  Now he was gone, and his fate was entirely on Dean’s shoulders. He continued running down the road, pausing only to tie his boots that kept flying off of his foot. He ran until the last curve of the road, stopping when he saw it. The car was stopped at the end of the dirty road, a few yards from the highway that would lead them to the closest town. It was quiet, everything turned off. He could just make out the back of Castiel’s messy hair in the darkness.

Dean leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees and catching his breath. He was winded, it had been a long time since he had needed to run like that, or had felt fear like that before. He straightened up and began stalking towards the car. He was going to have to exchange some unpleasant words with his friend.  He put on his best stoic face and rapped gently on the passenger side window, startling the man inside.  Dean yanked the door open and plopped himself down, slamming the door behind him for effect.

Castiel sat silently in the driver’s seat of the Impala, the keys dangling from the ignition. He looked down at his hands that he clasped together tightly, avoiding Dean’s harsh look and sorting out what had led to him to stealing Dean’s car.

“What the hell, man?” Dean had meant for it to sound a little harsher than it did, his voice softer than intended and cracking a bit at the end.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I was going to bring it back, I promise.” Castiel looked up and locked eyes with Dean, wide blue eyes glassy and on the verge of tears.

“Why did you take it? It’s the middle of the night, it’s dangerous out here!” Dean’s voice began to rise slightly, finding his ground. Castiel broke his gaze and looked down at his hands again, shrinking away. Dean immediately regretted his tone.

“I was practicing.”

“Why?”

“Because, well,” Cas fumbled around for words, “You’re always looking out for me. You’re teaching me, and you’re patient with me. You put up with me when I want to work on ‘my projects’, as you call them. It’s silly, I know, but I just wanted to do something that could maybe ease your burden and-and,” he seemed to steel himself for what he was about to say.

“And I just wanted to do something that would make you proud of me.”

Dean smiled tenderly, reaching over to grab Castiel’s hand, running his thumb across his knuckles, white from wringing them as he spoke. Dean would have to show him how to relax a little better.

“Cas, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I love you the way you are.” The words flew out of Dean’s mouth without hesitation. He supposed he should’ve felt some sense of fear or hesitation, but he simply didn’t. He loved Castiel and was happy with the simple life they had found themselves in. For the first time in a long time, Dean was truly happy.

Castiel stared at him wide-eyed before his face broke into a smile. He turned his hand palm up, lacing his fingers with Dean’s and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

They stayed in the Impala for a while longer, sitting quietly and holding each other’s hand until Castiel gave a small shiver.

“C’mon, take us back home. We need some sleep.” Dean let go and Cas turned the car back on, the blast of the heater thawing them out as he drove them slowly back to the bunker.

* * *

 

Castiel was finally getting it. He was more comfortable in the Impala, taking less time adjusting his seat and mirrors and not endlessly fidgeting with them nervously. Dean would let him drive them around on small errands. Gas station, grocery store, never very far, but Dean noted the genuine way Castiel seemed to enjoy it. Dean could spend all of his time and energy to make Castiel happy, and he planned on doing just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Partly inspired by the song "The Driver" by Savlonic.


End file.
